Missing You
by AssortedScribbler
Summary: Jen contemplates a certain time in his basement. JxJ.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything, though I certainly wouldn't mind owning Jethro, I just own the idea

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, though I certainly wouldn't mind owning Jethro, I just own the idea.

**A/N:** I came up with this fic ages ago, well, the bare bones of it anyway, but only just got around to finishing and typing up, so please, R&R! It's only my third NCIS fic so I need all the opinions I can get. I didn't go as far with the smut as I thought I would do, hope that worked. I just needed to get something out of my system. Please! Review and let me know how it worked out – my first T fic. At least, I think it's T. Hope you like it!

**Summary: **Jen contemplates a certain time in his basement. JxJ.

**Missing You**

Director Jennifer Sheppard was tossing and turning, once again, in her supposed-to-be-cool-because-they-were-satin sheets, except they weren't really doing anything for her at the moment. Nothing could help her when it came to dealing with her special problem. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. HE was her problem. Three words, but so much more than it seemed. God, what she would give to forget about him for a few days, get him out of her head, and let her body adjust. She'd have given up being Director for a few days if it meant she got away from the constant high temperature her body maintained around him and the claustrophobic pressure of their history combines with their still ever-so-present chemistry. There was no way she could get away from him now though. She was his _boss _for crying out loud, though you'd never know it, the way they worked together.

Screwing up her face, she rolled onto her back and straightened her posture, closing her eyes; she knew what she had to do. Of late, there was only one way she had been able to sleep at all, to grasp that fleeting, tiny bit of rest that was open to her because of the impossible hours she worked. Sighing, she pictured Jethro in her mind, pictured his clothing, his expression (his classic one of slight amusement, but trying not to laugh) the way his eyebrows quirked just that little bit she couldn't help finding enticing even now when she should be immune to such things. She expanded the image, putting him into a scene she naturally thought of when around him, his basement, because of the smell of sawdust and the occasional fleck of wood on his jacket. Sometimes it was nearly above her not to reach out and brush it off, though it was no longer her task to complete. Old habits.

Her mind reached back into her memory, looking for some sort of communication they'd had recently that she could use and the meeting of sorts they had had in his basement on the first day of her return into his life rose, dust-clouded in her mind. Their conversation that evening had wavered between amiable and distrusting which she supposed she should have expected, they couldn't just pick up where they left off. In fact, considering how they'd left off, it was probably better how they were now. She let herself sink deeper into the memory, feeling her muscles relax even as she remembered the sweet smell of bourbon mixed with sawdust that could only be him and his space. Her mind wandered and she drifted off to the land of dreams…

"_And watch some other guy sail off on her?" His voice was so uppity, so exasperated almost. He always was more protective of his wood than his women. I hadn't ever really thought he would bring himself to let someone else touch it, and burning it did seem fitting with his character. I just wanted to laugh at him a little, the way he had done earlier. It gave me a little rush to know I could laugh at him now and not expect any repercussions except the stare, which no longer worked._

"_You didn't care who sailed off on Diane." My voice sounded a little too happy in that reply, though I was joking, but he didn't seem to take it that way. His eyes darkened, that much I could tell, even in the dim light which couldn't be doing his already weak eyes any good at all, and he came around the boat to lean closer to me, while my breath hitched a little in my throat. Still the closeness affected me, even when we'd been apart for six years. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, and he leaned even closer,_

"_You know what Jen, you're right. If it had been you on the other hand…" There was a definite dangerous edge to his voice then and I knew exactly what he would have done. He was always possessive. I blinked, and desperately wanted to edge backwards, away from his enticing heat. Defiant to the last, I refused to budge and merely swallowed, hoping my voice would sound normal when it finally decided to leave my throat. My breathing was coming a little faster than usual, my eyes swept briefly over his torso, hoping they weren't showing just how much I wanted him, and so swept my eyes back up his face when I answered,_

"_Don't play games with me Jethro." My voice was, thankfully, as cold as I had intended it, and my gaze didn't falter from his as I spoke, knowing he would take complete advantage of my weakness if I showed any sort of break in my armour now. He leant even closer and I had to lick my lips subtly to moisturise them. His hot breath had completely dried them out. This was not the sort of situation I had wanted to end up in by coming here. The light flirting I could cope with, but with him basically fencing me in, there was no way I could get out of this. And a small part of me didn't want to, which was even more dangerous._

"_I don't play games Jenny." Damn the bastard! I felt my knees go weak at the subtle but definite predatory gleam in his eye and voice. It was a good job I was perched on a stool otherwise he would have had to catch me as I slid to the floor. Not the most elegant of moves, and would have probably played right into his hands. It was only because he had used my other nickname. He never called me Jenny, except in bed. I had asked it of him the first time we had… I struggled to draw in enough oxygen to fuel my already starved heart, but his presence was in the air, and my vision began to swim a little. His hands slid onto my knees, and I shivered, though if anything I was over-heating. I turned my head away from him, but that did nothing to stop him. He was determined to make me see just what I was missing._

_My collar bone, a weak spot for me, was now exposed to him, and he knew just how to use it. He itched that little bit more forward and his lips collided with my skin, sending tendrils of fire and ice all over me. I had to clamp my mouth shut to with-hold the moan rushing up my throat as his tongue flicked over my skin, but it was too late, he'd already noticed. He grinned in that satisfied way I know I will come to hate and slid his hand up from my leg to my shoulder, turning me back to him. I closed my eyes, and hoped he was and he wasn't not about to do what I thought he must have been about to._

_I could feel his eyes dancing across my face, and I couldn't resist opening my own to read his expression. It was one of hunger, desire, and passion, one I recognised without a problem. I'd often intentionally brought that his expression to him when we'd worked undercover just to tease him a while before we made love. It was one I often saw on my own face whenever I thought about him, and that time in Paris, in Serbia, in Marseille, in so many places. I wondered whether he was thinking of that time, now, or whether he was imagining other times, other opportunities which we were now presented with. Did it really matter? I quirked my eyebrow at him, and he smiled before lifting a finger and tucking a little strand of hair behind my ear, and moving swiftly forward, crashing onto my lips and gathering me up into his arms._

_I would be lying if I said I hadn't wanted this. I could feel my blood rushing in my veins, and suddenly, oxygen wasn't a problem anymore, I had his breath flooding my lungs, his mouth crushing my own in a passion I didn't remember in him when we had previously shared first kisses. He had always been gentle, passionate, but careful. Now, it was as if he'd lost that boundary. I didn't know whether to be grateful I had no time to think or to worry that something had created this urgency in him. Thoughts quickly were pushed from my mind as I slid my arms around his shoulders and pulled myself up, towards him, and fought back, moving underneath him, giving my senses up to the shivers of pleasure rushing my body. He pulled me away from his work bench and towards the boat, but I was hardly aware of it. Probably so I didn't end up getting injured by the tools he kept there, which was sweet. Or perhaps he just preferred us beginning this again against the one thing that always gave him a sense of peace. All I felt was something deep inside me, I refuse to believe it was my soul, was being pulled up to rest on my lips, ready for him to taste._

"_God, I missed you Jen." He murmured through our kiss, and it took me a while to register exactly what he'd said. It was only a repetition of his earlier statement, but now, it meant so much more. He really did mean it, and I knew he wasn't saying it just to make my body temperature rise that little bit more (as if being in the same room as him hadn't done enough already!) but actually wanted me to know he had missed me. And I realised how empty everything had seemed without him. When I felt able to answer, I whispered back, pulling away only briefly,_

"_I missed you too Jethro." He used the opportunity of my open mouth to push entrance into me with his skilled tongue, and I couldn't keep back the moan that surged up my throat. He swallowed the sound and pushed deeper, for a few more seconds of complete and utter surrender on my part, before he withdrew and though I followed his mouth (showing just how drunk I was on the taste of him) he slid his hands up to my shoulders and held me down, my back against the wooden rib of his boat while my eyes flew open to meet his reproachfully, my mouth in somewhat of a pout._

"_As great as it is to hear you moan again, Jen, we really shouldn't be doing this." I couldn't believe he was pulling this on me now._

"_You started it." I could hear the juvenile tone even as I said it, but also felt entitled. I was not about to let him back out on me now._

"_I know that, and the fact you're happy for me to seduce you shows we need to stop." I opened my mouth to make a comeback but he spoke over me. "We'll regret it." He said lowly, as if he didn't believe what he was saying. As a matter of fact, I didn't either._

"_I won't." I mumbled, my fingers inching their way up his shoulders to tug a little at the short hair at the back of his head. His weak spots and tender points were all starting to leak back into my mind, and if he kept denying me what we both obviously wanted, I had no qualms about using them. He'd already taken advantage of mine. His eyes slipped closed as my fingers kneaded the tense muscles at the base of his neck and I heard him give a slight groan but determinedly pulled his eyes open again to speak._

"_I will." I was a little hurt by that. He'd regret us being together again? "I don't want to screw this up by starting something we're not ready for. You were practically ready to do it on this floor." His toe pointedly scraped at a pile of sawdust and he raised an eyebrow at me. He obviously remembered how much I hated getting filthy; but just at that moment, I didn't care. "That is not how I want us to begin again." He murmured to me, leaning down a little more and his voice regaining the gruffness I loved to hear. It wasn't the act, just the setting he was worrying about._

"_Fine." I said firmly, and he looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected me to agree that quickly. I could barely conceal my grin as I took his hand in both of mine, and leant upwards to quickly plant a deep kiss on his mouth before drawing away and leading him up the stairs. I don't know whether he didn't understand what I had planned, or whether he was just content to let me lead for now, but he followed without protest. I swung my hips a little more than usual when I felt his eyes on my back and a smirk curled my lips as we finally reached his hallway. I stopped then and turned around, my eyes glittering in the light from a single lamp in his living room._

"_Will your couch be a suitable place?" I finally spoke in a sarcastically polite and curious tone. He went to protest, and I placed a gentle but firm hand over his mouth. "I don't care what you say Jethro, I want you. Now." I stated in a voice I hoped he wouldn't argue with. If I wasn't mistaken, there was a glimmer of amusement in his expression, but I didn't give him anymore time. I unashamedly lunged forward and pressed my lips ferociously against his, my arms once more winding around his neck as his slid around my body and stopped on my ass. I think he might have tried to say something about bed but I wasn't gonna wait any longer. I was aching for him._

_He backed me into the lit room, I felt carpet under my feet but couldn't coax my eyes open. There was too much pleasure to be gotten from keeping them closed, and his lips were pulling on mine, sucking my bottom lip to draw another moan from me. I bit down a little on the soft skin and I barely felt my nails dig into his scalp as he drew me forward, falling onto his couch. I couldn't see it was there, but I trusted him to aim properly. His leg slipped between mine, and god, I was getting so high off this closeness again. His mouth left mine and began to leave a searing trail of kisses down the pulse in my neck._

"_Oh God Jethro…"_

Jen started up, sweating and panting, her sheets twisted around her legs and her pulse sky-rocketing. She'd never gotten that close before. Dear God, never that close. Sure she'd dreamt of him, kissing, stroking, but they're never talked about it, never got that far. Jen tried to even out her breathing, knowing if she didn't she'd never sleep. She was still sat up, hands clenched in the cover sheet of her double bed and she could feel her body flushed and most definitely aroused. She took a few even deep breaths, stretching out her fingers and blinking slowly. Until she rid herself of the remnants of that inappropriate but inescapably satisfying dream, her mind would not stop. So she resolved to forget it, for now.

Once she had herself back under control, she rolled her head on her shoulders and slid back down into bed, throwing the sheets onto the other side away from her and swiping a hand over her forehead. She would have to find a new way of getting to sleep, as it was she would not be able to look Jethro in the eyes tomorrow. What if she had carried on dreaming? Had ended up having an orgasm while still practically unconscious? While the happenings were all in her head, the affects were not. And she had enough memories to know how it would have played out. God, she needed to stop thinking about Jethro.

Maybe all it added up to was sexual frustration. She hadn't had anyone for too long, and if she knew anything about her job, she knew it was going to stay that way. He just happened to be someone she saw often and could picture, well, remember having that connection with. She couldn't keep using Gibbs to act out fantasies though; their 'talking' was charged enough as it was. She didn't need another excuse to be embarrassed around him. She shook her head tiredly, finding her body surprisingly at peace when it at last stopped throbbing. Now her blood pressure and breathing had returned to normal, she resolved to try again for sleep. Dutifully, she pushed the thought of her former lover from her mind and as her wearied mind and body drifted off to peaceful oblivion, she had a vague thought of thanking god her security detail hadn't thought it necessary to bug her room.


End file.
